


Gods and Monsters

by cedarwoods



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 52fics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Dragon Prince, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-07 07:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarwoods/pseuds/cedarwoods
Summary: Root, the princess of Thornhill, and Sameen Shaw, a Moonshadow elf sent to assassinate her, form an unlikely friendship when they stumble upon the dragon queen's egg, previously thought to have been destroyed. In an effort to bring peace to their warring lands, they embark on a quest to return the egg to Catalyst.*No need to watch The Dragon Prince to understand this fic. There will be a rating bump at some point.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for #shootweek19, which will take place from May 25-May 31. I will update it and tag it appropriately when that time comes.

Long ago, humans and elves coexisted harmoniously in the land of Catalyst, where every insect, every blade of grass, thrummed with magic. With the exception of the humans, each organism was bound to one of the six primal sources of energy: the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, the sky, and the ocean. Governing all life was Cydryn, the ruler of the skies and the queen of the dragons.

Cydryn maintained peace in the land, listening carefully to Her constituents’ pleas and granting boons to help them learn to harness their magic and heal their illnesses. One day, quite unexpectedly, a human man knelt before her and begged that she grant his people the ability to use primal magic like all Her other subjects. But humans, she felt, could not be trusted. Time and time again, history had shown that humans would use their gifts for harm rather than good. She had her elven guards turn the man away, scoffing at his audacity.  

Infuriated and jealous, the man trained day and night to become a mage and invoked a new, seventh source of magic: dark magic. It sapped the essence out of magical creatures in Catalyst to unleash dark power. The elves and the dragons, aghast by what they saw, decided immediately to put a stop to the madness and banished all humans to the west.

And so it was that the continent was divided in two: on the western side was Thornhill, the human kingdom; on the eastern side was Catalyst. For centuries, Cydryn abandoned Her home on Mount Zirvesi to guard the border Herself, punishing humans who dared invade Catalyst with Her lightning breath and spiked tail.

But four moons ago, just before the winter solstice, armies from Thornhill marched to The Breach between the lands, seeking vengeance against Cydryn both for the Great Exile and for the murder of one of the king’s oldest friends. As they sparred with the soldiers from the clan of the Sunfire elves, the king’s high mage wielded horrifying dark magic to slay Cydryn and destroy her only egg, the dragon princess.

Some say they can still hear echoes of Cydryn’s cry as she was slain. Others, however, hear nothing but the creeping silence that comes before a storm – for Thornhill and Catalyst now lie on the brink of a full-fledged war.


	2. The Assassins' Oath

The sound of a sword clinking against armour was barely audible amidst the thunder crackling above, but she and her brethren stormed out of their tents immediately and sprang towards the source. Hoods drawn, they remained concealed behind towering oaks and watched as two soldiers warily approached.

“Who’s there?” the taller one called. “Declare yourself, in the name of King Harold!” He aimed his crossbow; an arrow embedded itself into a tree trunk.

At once, all six of them stepped out from behind the trees, their outlines briefly, eerily illuminated by a flash of lightning.

Startled, the soldiers yelped and took off in divergent directions. She caught Hersh’s nod in her peripheral vision and, without hesitating, leapt from treetop to treetop in furious pursuit of her prey. Another member of the Indigo unit was hot on the heels of the second soldier.

Rain pelted her and blurred her night vision, but she had trained under worse conditions. She welcomed the petrichor, the scent of the forest, the thrill of the hunt. Foreign though these woods were to her, she was in her element.  

Her quarry slipped in the mud, and his helmet rolled off, revealing dark blond hair.

He was making this almost too easy.

The soldier rose, however, and sprinted in the direction of the castle looming imperiously over the forest. She drew her bow and fired a couple of arrows in quick succession to the back of the man’s knees. With an anguished cry, he tumbled to the forest floor.  She hopped off a tree branch just before it was struck by lightning and strode purposefully towards the soldier. He held his crossbow up again, but she swiped it aside. He unsheathed a dagger in desperation, but she pulled her bow apart into its composite swords, twirled them in her hands, and swatted away the dagger.

“P…please,” he gasped. “Who are you?”

With a feral grin, Shaw slipped off her hood.

The soldier’s eyes widened at the sight of her horns. “Y…you’re a…”

“Didn’t anyone tell you it isn’t safe to wander around a forest at night?”

“I’ll – I’ll give you anything you want!”

“What I want,” Shaw said, “is to take your life.” She plunged one of the swords into his chest, and he collapsed limply, like a marionette with its strings slashed.

Shaw hooked her swords back together into their bow form and slung it across her torso. Her pointed ears pricked up when a twig snapped in the near distance – south, she noticed, where the king’s other guard had fled. She bolted, springing off tree trunks for added momentum.

She found her partner, Cole, standing in front of a puddle, his head bowed. “Did you get him?” Shaw asked.

“Shaw, I…”

Shaw peered at him. Seeing his shame, she closed her eyes and shook her head minutely. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“He was so afraid,” Cole murmured. “I saw the fear in his eyes, and I couldn’t do it.”

“So you let him go.”

Cole looked away. “Hersh and Wilson will be furious with me.”

“They shouldn’t have sent you of all people in the first place.”

He winced.

“What I mean,” Shaw clarified, “is that your job is to be our spy. You collect valuable information for us. But you’re _not_ an assassin. You have a good heart Cole. It was foolish of them to send you.”

And it didn’t make any sense either. Hersh and Wilson were master tacticians. Shaw found it difficult to believe they would make such a mistake – unless it _wasn’t_ a mistake. But why would they have wanted Cole to fail?

“Doubt they’ll want to hear anyone point that out to them though,” Cole muttered. “Sameen, what am I going to do?”

Shaw didn’t answer. Cole was one of the only people she liked, but now, he had crosshairs painted on his back by friends and foes alike. She gazed at the castle and contemplated the fate that awaited them.

*

Cole arrived back at the camp at the crack of dawn, about an hour after Shaw did. The sun was just beginning to peek through pink and purple clouds. His sword was stained with a red substance that she could only assume to be moonberry juice.

Hersh glanced at the weapon and nodded approvingly at Cole, tossing him a rag. “Well done,” he said.

Shaw kept her expression as impassive as ever. Cole kept to himself as much as he could, excusing himself to sharpen his blade on a whetstone.

“It is time,” Hersh declared.

Shaw rose and joined her comrades in a circle.

“King Harold ordered the assassination of the Dragon Queen and her unborn child,” Hersh said, pausing as the elves jeered. “Tonight, we bind our lives to justice.” He tied a silver ribbon around each of his arms. Each elf held their arms out, and he proceeded to tie the ribbon around their wrists as well.

 “My sword for vengeance,” said Wilson.

“My blood for truth,” said Grice.

“My strength for Cydryn,” vowed Brooks.

“My loyalty for justice,” said Shaw.

Cole took a breath. “My heart for Catalyst.”

In a blur of motion, Hersh’s sword sliced through the excess ribbon, and the circle was broken. “When the task is complete, I will send a shadow-phoenix with a blood ribbon message to Sol Regem. We assail the castle at the height of the full moon.”

“Hersh.”

“Yes Shaw?”

“Respectfully, I think we should be prepared for the possibility that they know we’re coming.”

He frowned. “Yes, we always should be. But under the full moon, we ought to be unstoppable. Why the extra caution?”

“Because they’re likely anticipating that we will avenge the queen’s death,” Cole interjected. “Especially now that the weather is good, and the border’s easier to cross.”

Hersh and Wilson exchanged a glance. Before either could say anything, however, a pale green moth landed on Shaw’s hand. It was an _Archangel lunaris_ – a moon moth that was drawn to their energy, but was definitely not native to this forest…

“They know we’re here,” Shaw hissed.

The earth shook and the air was rent with the whinnying of horses. Hersh yanked off his necklace, crushing it into a blue powder. “Mystica arbora!” he shouted, tossing the powder overhead.

About a dozen soldiers rode up to the elves’ campground just as the spell rendered them invisible.

“There’s nothing here,” said their leader – a man with a swoop of brown hair and an obnoxious accent that grated on Shaw’s nerves. “Leon!”

“Sir Jeremy, I’m sure Dillinger and I encountered the Moonshadow elves around here. They might have heard us and hidden.”

Beside Shaw, Cole flinched. Wilson, too, had recognized the guard from last night and was now glaring at Cole. If it was an act, as Shaw suspected, it was a damn good one.

“Stupid moth was supposed to take us to them directly,” Sir Jeremy scoffed. “But I’m not surprised that a magical moth is just as useless as a regular one. We’ll have to wait for the elves to come to us.” He slapped his reins, and with that, he and the knights charged away.

“You _lied_ to us,” Wilson seethed, the instant that the spell was lifted.

“I…I’m sorry.” Cole looked from Wilson to Hersh helplessly and gulped. “I know I’ve made a grave mistake–”

“Grave is right, boy! We’re all _dead_ because of you!” Wilson raised his sword, and Cole shielded his face with his arm. But the fatal blow never came – Shaw parried it away.  

“Leave him alone,” Shaw said firmly. “This is on you and Hersh for sending him. Cole’s not made for murdering people, and you know it.”

“You _dare_? This is insubordination, Shaw!” Wilson turned to Hersh for support, but the latter was staring at Shaw, who coolly met his eyes.

Shaw had met Hersh a decade ago. He had recruited her, given her a purpose, and trained her himself. He had taken her under his wing when the rest of her people had shunned her. Hersh was like an uncle to Shaw. She hoped he would side with her on this.

“Deal with me and Cole later if you must. We have a bigger mission to worry about.”

Hersh cocked his head in acquiescence. “Very well. Wilson, leave them.”

Snarling, Wilson sheathed his sword and stalked away. Shaw saw him shoot one final, murderous look at her and Cole before he disappeared into the woods.

 

 


End file.
